


A TASTE OF BITTER ALOES

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7896454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after they returned home, Kathryn Janeway, now an admiral, still believes that there is no place for Chakotay in her life. So what's a man to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A TASTE OF BITTER ALOES

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a contest theme, Josi's "Wild Flowers" contest in which she had given just a picture of wild flowers and the writer had to write a story based on the picture. So my gratitude to Josi for organising this contest and for inspiring me to write this short story. 
> 
> The aloe ferox often goes by its more common name in my country as "bitter aloe".
> 
> Disclaimer: Paramount owns Janeway and Chakotay. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

* * *

God knows, she had made many mistakes in her life; made decisions that even now, five months after returning home, Starfleet still shook their heads about in disbelief. She had enjoyed those looks and challenged them on every decision she had made. It was downright satisfying to see how they had backed down over a particular stance she took. She didn't care how mutinous or fiercely protective she appeared if it meant she could save those crew who might have been jailed.

Over the years she had made a lot of people either angry, or sad or outraged or just plain dejected.

Kathryn's fingers trembled as they worked the conn panels of the Delta Flyer. She had left a curt message for Owen Paris that she was taking the Flyer for some unfinished business. Owen's reply had been as succinct: Then finish it, Kathryn.

A sudden image of a strained face, dark and unhappy, came before her.

Try as she might, she couldn't forget the look on Chakotay's face the last time she had seen him. Closing her eyes, she tried to blank out that look, consign it to oblivion, but even in the oblivion of her fractured sleep, his eyes bore into her. They seemed to call on every debt she owed him and she…she was welching on all of them.

Her words… "I never promised you a rose garden…"

His darkly tanned face that looked pinched, pale and the eyes… God, his eyes, his wounded eyes.

"Then there is nothing more to say, is there?" his words cut into her that day in her office.

"Chakotay, I - "

His face had pulled uncharacteristically in a frown, one that marred his features, disturbed the beauty of the smooth lines of his tattoo.

"Goodbye, Kathryn…"

He had left her office and she hadn't seen him since. He never turned up at the homecoming celebrations and even when she thought that Seven of Nine would have left with him to wherever it was he vanished to, that little illusion had been shattered. Seven turned up at the celebrations, looking stunning and looking like she never missed Chakotay.

Strange how, despite senior crew like Tom Paris, Tuvok and B'Elanna knowing of Seven’s attachment to Chakotay, it was never to her a source of perturbation. Chakotay's affection - indeed, his love - had been for her, Kathryn Janeway. It was an awareness borne out of their unusually close and intimate friendship, their relationship as colleagues. By some unspoken agreement they had never crossed the boundaries that she felt, would have compromised her goal, her personal mission of remaining a disciple of the Federation. Knowing of his feelings, she had been careful not to allow him to entertain any thoughts of a relationship as lovers, or a marriage.

They had come home, thrust through a transwarp hub and surprised Starfleet Command. Then the flurry of activities that followed -  endless meetings, reuniting with her family, seeing that her crew were looked after, protecting the remaining members of Ransom's command, seeing that none of the Maquis ended up in prison. Through it all she had felt the new ripple of excitement within her and in the man always at her side through those days - Chakotay. His eyes were an open book, a new manuscript with the first chapters already mapped, charted and plotted. They were home. There were no more parameters. She was no longer his captain, his commanding officer.

She was no longer a captain.

She knew the moment would come that he would ask her.

But that day…

"I feel if I don't ask, I'll never know, will I? Whether you'll say yes or no."

She had said 'no'. 'No' to marriage, 'no' to love. She had believed that there could be no room for him even after they returned home.

After that she couldn't get him out of her mind. His presence persisted in her waking moments, in her dreams, in her conversations with others. She had slipped naturally into the promotion that Starfleet Command handed her on a plate but everywhere she walked, Chakotay was with her; she couldn’t shake him off

The Admiralty. It had never been a conscious desire to climb up the Starfleet ladder. She knew she was good, one of the best at what she was doing. Her grandparents had been in Starfleet, and so had her father been until his untimely death. It was in her blood, in every vein that throbbed, every heartbeat, every breath she took. She was always going to get there. When she returned home, she knew of no other path that she could walk.

It was why she could never allow herself to get close to Chakotay, the one man she knew would be her emotional undoing. But seven years drifting like a Flying Dutchman through a sometimes benign, mostly hostile alien quadrant had brought them all together as a family, a close-knit unit that solidified more and more as they faced dangers together. More and more she sought him out, nights when they had talked into the early hours of the morning, days spent in the holodeck playing velocity. She really couldn't imagine living one day to the next without him, or, just knowing he was there, near her.

Sometimes, he dropped a kiss in her hair. Like a child she would rest her head against him, press her lips in his neck. Then, to her shame at the disappointed look in his eyes when he moved closer to her, she retreated.

There were boundaries they never crossed. He loved her. Within her, her head fought her heart in a duel to the death to gain ownership of her feelings for Chakotay.

Chakotay…

Kathryn sighed. She couldn't tell him all that she felt. They had been close friends, the best of friends, but she knew by the look in his eyes in unguarded moments, that he had wanted more. She knew that her actions sometimes gave him hope for more. But she had always been too insidiously aware that she had a mission, and that her mission excluded the frivolous excursions into mid-night trysts or affirmation of feelings such as a loving relationship required and demanded.

"Love," she told him, "is not enough for a marriage, Chakotay. I wish I could give you everything, give you more, give to the other essential elements that bond two people forever…"  Her words had trailed away. She had sounded ineffective, she knew.

"But?"

"I'll always be Starfleet."

"Do you love me?"

"No."

Now, her dreams were filled with her denial; her heart screamed at her head in its dying moments.

"You gave me every reason to hope, Kathryn, now that we're home."

"I never promised you a rose garden, Chakotay."

Chakotay had wanted everything, even if he never breathed a word to affirm those desires. She was always going to be in uniform, even as she loved him. She couldn't expect him to make any more sacrifices than he had already – destroying his own vessel, bowing to decisions she made when she knew in many instances he had been right, remaining by her side as more than just a token first officer… Marriage…children… She remembered her father, remembered how she and  Phoebe  had cried when he couldn't make it home for Christmas, or birthdays, or graduation…

Claiming the Federation as husband, lover, prostrating herself to her chosen deity, she kept her face covered with the veil of obedience. It was the best defence against Chakotay. A defence that crumbled into debris as the days passed and his smiling, concerned, sad, happy face wouldn't leave her.

 

***

 

Her console beeped suddenly, an alert that she had reached sector 451, where in just an hour, she would reach the Dorvan system, fifth planet.

Her heart thudded painfully. She wanted to sleep properly one whole night through, not dream of dimples and tattoos and smiling eyes. For now, visions of a Native American man refused to stay out, intruding brashly and constantly in the depths of her slumber and her growing awareness of dawn.

"I can't be a rose, Chakotay. Not a fragile bloom with wraith-like petals that drift to earth at the merest touch. I can't be what you want…"

She imagined he replied with, "Maybe a rose isn't what I wanted…"

Kathryn's eyes closed at those words. She hoped fervently that he would listen to her.

_But I have listened, Kathryn. Only, you didn't hear my call._

****** 

It was late afternoon when she touched down just outside the dusty town where she knew Chakotay stayed. It hadn't taken a genius to determine that he would return to Dorvan V and assist in its reparation after the Cardassians destroyed most of the planet's natural resources. In five months she had not heard from him - not that she expected to hear anything. She had turned down his proposal in a heartless manner, denied her own heart the joy of loving him and casting all reservations to the wind. She couldn't expect him to remain by her side.

Now…

Not a letter, not a subspace communication message. She needed to see his eyes again, see in them the immutability of his feelings.

It was important that he see the new dawn in her eyes. 

She had not known that being separated for five months when they had been side by side for seven years, could hurt so. She had not known that she could wake in the middle of the night, gasping, distraught, after dreaming of him. She had not known that every breath she took could become a painful action simply because he wasn't part of it anymore. She had not known that a Starfleet admiral could be so colossally thoughtless and stupid to sell her soul to the Federation.

Kathryn stepped down the ramp of the Flyer and braced herself for the waft of burning air that hit her. She sucked in her breath as she peered in the distance. The air shimmered just above the surface like a cool pond.

Around her she could see people, most with the Native American appearance and she smiled when she recognised Crewman Mirren who had been on Voyager. Some of the crew had come to Dorvan V to assist in its rehabilitation. Mirren, who had been standing in the doorway of her abode, just nodded with her head in the direction Kathryn was walking. She would meet with those crew as soon as she had things sorted out. Mirren had indicated the direction of Chakotay's home, and Kathryn couldn't help but smile a little ruefully that Mirren knew why she had come. So she waved and acknowledged her former crewman's greeting before making her way further down the road.

When she reached the abode – a white building with flat red slate roof which looked like it had just been completed – she drew in a deep breath and knocked.

She waited a few seconds before the door opened.

Kathryn frowned when she saw a woman with long, raven black hair, staring back at her.

"No, I'm not his wife or lover, if that's what you are thinking," the woman said. When she smiled, dimples appeared in her cheek. Kathryn breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. "My name is Sekaya," the woman said. "I am Chakotay's sister."

"My name is Kathryn Janew – "

"I know. Please, do come inside," Sekaya said, indicating with a flourish of her hand that Kathryn step into the cool foyer of the abode

"You know me?" Kathryn asked as she followed Sekaya to the lounge. The house was a surprise with its soft, light furnishing and cool white walls adorned with Native American artefacts.

Sekaya turned to her, a movement that caused her incredibly long hair to sway about her hips. A gentle smile transformed her features as she gestured that Kathryn take a seat while she vanished down a short passage, reappearing moments later with something in her hand.

"Chakotay doesn't mind that I sometimes enter his bedroom to do some tidying up. This…" Sekaya said as she held the framed photograph to Kathryn, "has been by his bedside since he arrived here, almost five months ago."

Kathryn held the photograph up and a lump formed in her throat as she looked at her image. It gave her hope as she had never dared to hope before. She remembered the day on a beautiful planet when they had gone down for shore leave. She had been happy, and Chakotay had just snapped away with his imager. Her hair glinted in the sun behind her. She looked relaxed, free.

Then Kathryn looked up at Sekaya who had been quietly studying her.

"Why are you here, Kathryn?" she asked. There was a guarded look in Sekaya's eyes, one that couldn't hide the protection Kathryn knew she felt for her brother.

"I'm here to finish unfinished business…"

"He never talks, you know. I wish sometimes he did. This," she said softly, as she pointed to the photograph, "is the only indication that I know how he hurts…"

"I never meant to hurt him, Sekaya. I was – "

"You don't have to explain to me." Sekaya smiled her gentle smile again as she took the picture from Kathryn's hand. "You should tell Chakotay."

"Yes… I need to tell him what I must," Kathryn said, rising to her feet.

"He isn't here. I'll take you to him. Just…don't hurt him again…"

****************** 

 

"I'll leave you now," Sekaya said calmly. "My own family is waiting for me." 

"Thank you," Kathryn said to her as they stopped at the base of a slight gradient. In the distance she could see the figure of a man and knew that it was Chakotay. His bearing was unmistakable, and the way he tilted his head toward the sky so endearing, so familiar that she wanted to weep.

"You'll be okay?" Sekaya asked, frowning, hesitating to leave.

"Yes…yes, I'll be fine."

Sekaya nodded, then turned and walked toward the road again. Kathryn waited until she had rounded a rocky outcrop. She gave a deep sigh as she started in the direction where she had seen Chakotay. She had been amazed at the vegetation. Mostly chaparral that resembled the dry regions of North America with cacti dotted here and there. But it was the proliferation of flowers of all colours and shapes that impressed her most. Could they have rehabilitated Dorvan V so quickly after its destruction by the Cardassians? Then she realised that reparation work had probably started long before they returned home.

The unusual appearance of the bright red flower heads on long stems growing out of a crown of thick, pointed leaves grabbed her instantly. It was uncanny, the way she felt drawn to the exotic blooms which all pointed upwards in a delta shaped flower head.

Chakotay had become aware of her presence and when he turned to look in her direction, Kathryn thought she saw him stiffen.

Reaching him, he made no attempt to move, or speak. Yet his eyes flashed in recognition, acknowledged something ancient between them. It was over in an instant.

"Hello, Chakotay."

"Admiral…"

Her heart sank.

"I come here as Kathryn." She had not worn her uniform and instead had opted to wear a light knee-length gilet over a pair of pants

"Funny. I was given the impression that the two were one."

How could she blame him for being bitter? Her appearance on Dorvan V could mean anything; Chakotay was simply protecting his heart again. She stepped closer to him and stood in his shadow as she looked into his beloved face. She wanted to touch him, but retracted the hand that wanted to caress his weathered cheek.

"I tried to get rid of you, but I couldn't."

"So, no rose garden?"

She sighed.

"No, Chakotay. Just me, if you'll have me.

"Starfleet, Admiral. It's in your blood, your bones, your past, your present and your future."

"I need you in it, as part of my past, present and future."

Chakotay stood gazing at her for long moments.

"What a different song you sing now, Kathryn Janeway."

"I thought I needed protection from myself. It's impossible."

"You told me you didn't love me."

Chakotay turned abruptly away from her when he spoke, taking an interest in a large clump of the red flowers that proliferated over a large area. She watched him break off a piece from one of the thick, fleshy pointed leaves, squeezing it a little between thumb and forefinger until its sap dripped out.

"Chakotay…

He turned to face her again. She resisted the urge to throw herself against him in total abandon.

"I never asked for a rose garden," he said.

"I guess I presumed too much, then."

"You did.

The silence hovered between them. Of course, her arrogant presumption, her fierce denial of her feelings. He couldn't know…of her love

"I love you…

"You told me love was not enough to keep two people together, to make a marriage good."

"I said that, didn't I?" she replied, giving a mirthless little laugh that sounded tinny.

"You said too many things, most of them I always knew," he said softly, closing the gap between them. "Here, taste this…"

He held the open edge of the leaf point he had broken off earlier. She took it and squeezed some sap on her tongue. It tasted wild, exciting, inviting exotic flavours. Then her eyes widened. She almost choked as she spat the sap on the ground. The bitter taste bled so suddenly on her tongue that it shocked her. She tried to scour her tongue by running her teeth against it and spitting out the offending juice. The bitter taste remained

She looked at Chakotay in alarm. He was smiling!

"That's not funny, Chakotay."

"When I was about nine years old, my father did the same thing to me. I didn't suspect a thing until the bitterness registered. The taste lingered for days in my mouth. But it tasted good at first. I fell for it. Just like you did."

"You're right. What is this flower?"

"Aloe ferox, or bitter aloe."

She should have known…

"They seem to like this habitat," she told him, still smarting from the bitter taste lingering on her tongue

"When the first settlers arrived they brought seeds and bulbs from Earth. Aloes are most commonly found in Southern Africa. They wanted something from every continent. They couldn't have known how suited the plants were to Dorvan V's dry climate. After the planet's natural resources were destroyed by the Cardassians, those who returned found these still growing."

"It's amazing, Chakotay."

"Aye. You remind me of Aloe ferox. Always have."

"You gave me a rose once…"

"I thought it was what you wanted."

"This aloe - "

"Can withstand heat, survive in adverse conditions. Their thick leaves act like funnels so that the early morning dew is captured and stored to provide the water they need. They can sink into the ground, their flowers wilt and die, but come next season, these leaves are still here, and the stalks rejuvenate to produce new flower heads. See here? They point like darts upwards, reaching for the sky, seeming to touch the clouds. They don't break easily, and though they look fragile if viewed as a single floret, they're remarkably strong. It's the most deceptive thing about these flowers, Kathryn. Most deceptive."

"And you think I'm like that?"

"I never asked for rose gardens, remember?"

"I love you, Chakotay."

A heavy silence.

"You're like the aloe, Kathryn. At first, a taste, just a hint of pleasure, the odd mix of exotic flavours. The next moment, the bitterness that overrides the enjoyment…"

Kathryn paled at his words, knew what he meant.

"Chakotay - "

"One moment, Kathryn, you promise me the moon, the beauty of all things, the urge to reach and touch the sky. I loved you those moments, with all my heart. I dream of us, together; I dream of your courage; I dream of our past, our present and especially, with my heart roaring with joy, a future with you."

"Oh, God, Chakotay…"

"Then you tell me you don't love me. You tell me there is no hope when a moment before you gave me every reason to hope. You tell me you didn't make promises; you tell me you're not the rose you thought I wanted. You kill me here," Chakotay said in a calm voice, as he held his fist over his heart, "and I die…again and again and again. That day in your office, Kathryn… You didn't have to say yes, I know. All I wanted was for you to acknowledge your feelings for me. I knew they were there. I've never thought of you as cowardly, but that day…"

"I told you I didn't love you."  She couldn't see him, thought it was the bright light in her eyes as he moved to one side. But her eyes had filled with a sheen of tears. Her heart thundered when she felt him brush her damp cheeks.

"Aye. You cannot know how that hurt. You cannot know my misery. Now you come here, enter my world, asking me to take you back. You stand on the ground my people had walked for generations, and you look like you belong here. It's not fair, Kathryn."

This time she reached up to caress his cheek, gently touching his tattoo. He closed his eyes.

"Don't..."

"I'm not walking away this time, Chakotay," she whispered, unable to keep a sob out of her voice.

"You sound...decided."

"You did so much for me...made so many sacrifices; you stood by my side even when you knew I was wrong, or demented, or just plain bullish... I couldn't let you do it again, when we got home..."

She knew it sounded flat, without much substance, but she didn't know how to say what was in her heart. Chakotay's hand had covered hers, removed it from his cheek and his lips burned in her palm. It was stupendous, the freedom of loving him. His eyes opened.

"Know this, Admiral: your angry warrior will lay down his life for you. His life and more, you hear me?"

"I was wrong, Chakotay. About me. About us. About a life together. It can be good if we make it good."

Chakotay nodded, and for the first time since she arrived, smiled that she could see his teeth, the deepening dimples. Her heart soared with joy. Whatever he wanted... She was not going to deny him, or her.

"You'll spend six months here on Dorvan  - "

"Already made arrangements."

"And I'll be with you at Starfleet."

"That would suit me just fine."

"It would?" Chakotay asked, his face open, with none of the pinched, drawn looks of the last time she had seen him. He still wanted her. She had been prepared to go home, alone, lonely, empty...

Kathryn gave a little cry as she threw herself against him.

"Oh, Chakotay! I missed you...missed you so badly..."

He held her to him, not like the fragile flower she had imagined he would hold her, but strongly, tightly, determined that he'd never let her go.

"My wild, wild fiery aloe, courageous flower! I missed you like the dry earth thirsts for the cool relief of water streams. I dreamed of you, even when you sent me away..."

They stood among the aloes, clinging to one another for an eternity. At last he held her away from him. He looked deeply into her eyes. She knew there would be times that he would remember, taste the bitterness of her rejection again, but they had time, and time to heal.

"My sweet Kathryn... with you by my side, I can do anything."

"And I live, because of you..."

They started walking down the gentle slope towards the dusty road that would lead to his home. Hand in hand they walked, each remembering the pain, the bitterness, the joy of forgiveness and togetherness. Chakotay paused once to look back at the vast fields of aloes that grew smaller and smaller the further they had moved away. She watched his eyes, the softness in his hard features. Then he looked down at her.

"The most amazing thing about the aloe is its power to heal...."

 

****

 

END

 

 


End file.
